Becoming Numb
by Elwyn the PlushieHead
Summary: After the battle of Helm's Deep, Legolas searches for his friend, and finds that he had no chance to say final goodbyes. *Non-slash*


Legolas walked through a stone corridor in Helm's Deep.  
  
It was over. The battle which had been so unfairly matched had ended, and although they had won, most of their allies lay dead, drenched in both the rain from the previous night, and their own blood.  
  
He found Aragorn in the hallway to the inner keep, along with Éomer, Théoden, Gandalf, Gimli, and Éowyn. Aragorn was helping to treat the survivor's wounds with Gandalf. The heir to Gondor looked exhausted, and very much older than her was. A gash on his left arm had been bandaged, but was soaked crimson, suggesting it had been reluctant to stop bleeding. Legolas waited patiently near the doorway until Aragorn was finished with Théoden's injuries. He was in bad shape, to be sure, but he would heal with some rest. Éowyn was smiling, obviously overjoyed that Aragorn and her uncle still lived.  
  
Legolas didn't feel like being seen by them right now. His entire body ached, and cuts on his shoulder and forehead stung relentlessly, but he was trying his best to ignore them. He was sure that it would be better if he got them tended to, but he wasn't in the mood to have anyone fuss over himself, when others should be looked at first. After a few more minutes, Aragorn nodded and sighed, and Théoden took his leave to go help the others. Éomer followed, along with Éowyn, but first, she said a goodbye to Aragorn. He looked up, and yawned slightly. He spotted Legolas, and he smiled. Legolas tried to remember the last time Aragorn was smiling, and meant it. He settled on Rivendell, as the Lady Arwen was there. It made sense. Aragorn stood up, and walked over to him, and embraced him as if he were a brother.  
  
"I was worried. Mae govanan, mellon nin." Whispered Aragorn.  
  
Legolas felt a twinge of guilt. After it was completely over, he had left to try to find Haldir, leaving no word of where he was going. No doubt some thought him injured or possibly dead. Legolas hugged back, and pulled away. Gandalf was smiling, and Gimli was saying something in Dwarvish, probably cursing him for the scare. Aragorn, however, was surveying him with concern.  
  
"Legolas, these wounds-"  
  
"I'm fine," Said Legolas, interrupting. "They'll heal. Don't worry about it. Please." Aragorn looked as if he wished to say otherwise, but he held his tongue.  
  
"I needed to ask you something."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Where's. . . " He broke off, and paused for a moment. "How did Haldir fare?"  
  
Aragorn's face fell. Gandalf cleared his throat pointedly and Gimli followed him down another corridor.  
  
"I'm afraid he didn't make it." Aragorn finished quietly. It was a strange sensation. The crying of babies, the sobs and talk, though they were still there, seemed to wash over him, so that he hearted nothing. His stomach seemed to have been replaced with lead. He tightly closed his eyes.  
  
This could not be the case. . .  
  
He should still be alive. . .  
  
"What of his body?"  
  
"Unrecovered."  
  
Legolas swallowed, and looked at the Ranger.  
  
"I did not see him. Where did he fall?" Please, don't let me sob in front of these people. . .  
  
"He was slain outside the gate to the courtyard." He sounded uncomfortable. Blinking back tears, the Elf turned away, proceeding to go there, but Aragorn caught his arm.  
  
"Legolas, don't-"  
  
"I have no wish for him to be burned on an Orc pyre, Aragorn." He voice was edged with ice. "He shouldn't have died at all. I will not let his body be burned with creatures so foul."  
  
Aragorn watched him go, wondering whether or not to follow. He shouldn't have died. . .  
  
Yes, it was true.  
  
The Elves were not meant to succumb to the Doom of Men, which was why no matter how many times Legolas lost someone, he would never truly understand death. . .  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Legolas walked out onto the Hornburg Courtyard, the rain and blood creating small puddles that glinted grossly in the morning sun. Bodies of Men, Elves, and Urûk-hai alike littered the stone floor. Some men were already hauling them away. As Legolas went through the splintered remains of the gate, the stench of the dead near made him gagged. The sloping bridge was covered in Urûk-hai corpses, and there was little space to put his feet. He glanced over the sea of the dead, searching for anything that might help him find the body of his fallen friend. . .  
  
He was staring to resent not asking Aragorn where exactly the marchwarden died, but thought that he best not waste time trying to find him again. Legolas wasn't sure how long he looked, but then he saw a pale hand from under the body of a foe. . .  
  
Quickly moving the Urûk-hai off, he found what he had been searching for.  
  
Legolas stifled a cry. Golden hair fell over Haldir's face, his eyes open in shock. Blood from the slash on his back and perhaps his head covered his cloak.  
  
Blinking back tears, he brushed the hair off his friend's face. It was cold to the touch, and some blood had dried on the corner of his mouth.  
  
Damn the Valar. . . he thought, basely.  
  
Legolas gently kissed the forehead, and said a small prayer in Elvish. He couldn't leave. He had known Haldir since his first trip to Lorian over a thousand years ago. He dug his fingernails into his arm, trying to keep from crying. He had no intention of anyone seeing him broken like this.  
  
"Legolas? Are you alright?"  
  
The elf knew it was Aragorn. He turned to face the Man. His blue eyes were so full of sorrow and suppressed tears that it was a horrible thing to see.  
  
"Legolas. . . ?"  
  
Legolas felt sick inside, and he gave up trying not to cry. The tears flowed silently down his face.  
  
"I'll miss seeing you in the Havens, Haldir," he whispered. "I really hoped we'd both get there. Farewell, friend. I'll always remember you." He bit his lip and choked back a sob. Stooping to pick up the body, he turned and walked to Aragorn, not really believing what he was doing. He paused in front of him.  
  
"No. . . I'm not alright this time," He said, smiling sadly. "And I don't think I ever will be."  
  
He walked past the Ranger.  
  
The wound would never heal, nor go away. He felt as if all his emotions had fled.  
  
As if he were becoming numb.  
  
Maybe the wound would heal, maybe it would bleed for Eternity. He didn't really care if it did.  
  
After all, he was starting not to feel it.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
R.I.P. Haldir ~+~ 


End file.
